


Of Dust and Serendipity

by shanksmuseum



Category: Glee
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Blaine owns an antique store, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanksmuseum/pseuds/shanksmuseum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Every single week, on Saturday, they would meet in a different location. Museums, restaurants, parks, shops, libraries, roundabouts, bridges, pet stores... Every unknown place either of them could think of, having the honor of introducing the other to either random and stumbled up or personal and memorable places.</p>
<p>Every Saturday they found each other and spent from one to nine hours together."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dust and Serendipity

“Do you think you’ll see him again?”  
  
Blaine looks away, instinct making his gaze lower like a tic that never quite faded.   
  
He follows the movement of his fingers as they trace the inside of his palm. His skin feels warm, like it had been held. It’s only then he notices the smile pulling at his lips.  
  
Finally, he meets the questioning look directed at him. Patient and understanding despite his silence. The stare of a therapist, scrutinizing yet friendly.   
  
“I hope so,” Is how he responds, but he knows his smile is giving his true answer away: _Yes_.  
  
The session ends ten minutes later on a different topic because Blaine never brings up his weekly date, only answers questions when they come up.  
  
It had been his shrink’s idea to get out more. Apparently, his shop was taking too much of his time so, once a week, he went somewhere unknown.   
  
That’s where he had met Kurt. Serendipity, his therapist called it.

It was on his third week’s trip, leading him to a coffee shop blocks away from his usual one that he came across him. Kurt had commented on his dusty coat and laughed as Blaine had fumbled to get it off by shaking around.  
  
On a whim, Blaine had asked Kurt to join him at a table in the back of the cafe, away from the cold winter draft curling around them next to the door.   
  
Blaine was happy in his little life. He played music, he owned a store he loved, he saw the world in his own way, through books and movies and he enjoyed that.   
  
Love was never something he thought about until his therapist had asked him about his romantic life.   
  
Then he met Kurt and every week he found out a little more about that feeling he read about in the old tomes lining the walls of his office. Priceless, dusty books from decades and centuries ago that he kept in a separate room from his shop for experts and rich collectors. The ones that buy the books to show them off but never actually read, like trophies of wealth.   
  
First editions wrapped in leather and layered in a dust no brush or broom can really remove. Blaine read them, though. Because owning an antique store could sometimes be boring during the week and they were too precious to ignore until the next generation passed them on.  
  
After that first afternoon in the back of a coffee shop Blaine never returned to, they hadn’t exchanged numbers but Kurt had slipped a piece of paper in Blaine’s-no-longer-dusty coat with an address. “See you next week,” Kurt had hinted with a smile, leaving before getting a response.  
  
It went on like that for seven months.   
  
Every single week, on Saturday, they would meet in a different location. Museums, restaurants, parks, shops, libraries, roundabouts, bridges, pet stores... Every unknown place either of them could think of, having the honor of introducing the other to either random and stumbled up or personal and memorable places.  
  
Every Saturday they found each other and spent from one to nine hours together. It took a full two months for them to exchange numbers and another three to tell each other what they did.  
  
After that Kurt started giving addresses to antique shops to see if he could find Blaine’s because they kept that small safety around them of staying partially anonymous to each other. Like an unspoken agreement that they knew so much about each other just from talking that swapping addresses would add an extra danger.   
  
Blaine didn’t mind. He knew about Kurt’s entire life, the names of his coworkers, his family’s antics, Kurt’s collection of random objects like cards and feathers but he didn’t know where he lived and worked. He knew with detail what every room in Kurt’s apartment contained without knowing what street it was on but that somehow made it more intimate.   
  
Because no matter what, he knew that one day he would be able to walk into that final piece of Kurt’s life as well as take Kurt through his own store like a leap of faith and a cementation of their relationship.   
  
They never kissed, they never talked about what they were to each other but they held hands and they shared food and Kurt pulled his chair out and Blaine held doors open. They smiled secret smiles and they traced each other’s faces with fingertips and looks but it was never mentioned out loud.   
  
Partners, boyfriends, friends, halves; it was all there, it was just never said.  
  
So when the address Kurt texted him on the 32nd week ended up being the one to his own store, he almost offered up another one because their balance was perfect and even though he was ready to show Kurt every facet of his world, he wasn’t sure it was mutual.  
  
So even though he smiled and answered yes to his shrink’s question, some doubt still muddled his mind as they discussed his sleeping habits for the remainder of their hour.  
  
Yes, Kurt and him will see each other again because that’s how their relationship works but this time will be different and Blaine isn’t exactly worried but some part of him wonders if his next session with his therapist will involve a frown. Or tears.  
  
That fear disappears like a whisper when he sees another text from Kurt as he leaves the office.  
  
“I’m bringing a picnic on Saturday. Fingers crossed this antique shop is yours because I’m setting it up on an old table and no one can stop me. I used Santana’s kitchen for this meal. I suffered.”  
  
Blaine grins down at his phone, texting back a vague, “Can’t wait!” before heading back to the shop in question.  
  
The only reason Blaine decided to go see a therapist was because he had moved in next to Blaine’s store. He had never considered seeing one since that was his father’s profession and as much as he loves his dad, being analysed throughout his childhood wasn’t something he necessarily wanted to recreate.   
  
But it brought more results than journal keeping or any other attempt at distraction Blaine had tried. Plus it lead him to Kurt.  
  
That night he spends more time than usual cleaning the place up. Making sure at least three of the grande tables are remotely dust-free and gathering an impressive alignment of mismatched chairs from beneath heaps of nicknacks.   
  
He leaves the store like it usually is because this is his world, his piece of magic despite its dust and age. Somehow, he knows Kurt will love it because it’s a part of him.  
  
That doesn’t stop him from unrolling a few massive carpets and rugs to set up a space in front of a two century old chimney at the back of the store, calling his three employees and giving them Saturday off and rescheduling a delivery.   
  
When Saturday comes around any nervousness is gone. He opens his store up like he does six days a week but at 1.30pm he doesn’t leave like he usually does because today, he has nowhere to go.   
  
At 2 on the dot Kurt walks in and Blaine freezes mid sentence, on the phone with a potential buyer.   
  
He watches as Kurt steps further into the store, fingers trailing along a three-hundred year old armoire with a small smile creasing his features, dimples almost visible in the sunlight streaming in from the windows Blaine happened to have cleaned that morning.   
  
Blaine’s heartbeat falls out of rhythm as he watches the ever-present dust settle around Kurt like an aura in the midday sun.   
  
He looks beyond beautiful and Blaine falls a little more in love.   
  
Kurt fits perfectly in his little shop and it’s at that moment that Blaine realises without a doubt how perfectly he fits into his life now but also in ten, twenty, thirty years. Something settles in Blaine’s mind as he hangs up on the forgotten customer, something certain and exciting, how much he wants Kurt in his life now and for a long time to come.  
  
That thought hits home hard when Kurt finally looks his way and meets his eyes, his smile growing, making Blaine respond in kind with a stutter of his heart.  
  
Kurt slowly makes his way towards him, picking delicately at random objects and pieces along the way, a curious fascination playing over his face as he opens small hidden drawers and tests out old tools and accessories.   
  
Blaine is content just watching, a silly grin he can’t seem to control or tone down pulling at his cheeks. Finally, Kurt steps up to him, his focus solely on Blaine as he links his fingers with his.  
  
“I found it,” Kurt whispers and Blaine searches his eyes for some sort of double meaning, like Kurt had had the same realisation as him. He can’t describe what he finds in those eyes because he himself could never put words to the feelings he has for Kurt.  
  
After a short beat, Blaine leans in to press his forehead to Kurt’s, letting himself close his eyes for a moment and breathe through his nose.   
  
“This is... this is my home,” Blaine swallows, resisting the urge to say something like “so are you” or “it can be yours now, too”. He laughs a little, butterflies of some sort tickling his stomach at the thought.  
  
“You’re mine.”  
  
Kurt says it with such conviction Blaine’s throat closes up and he feels heat prickle behind his eyelids. He’s smiling so wide he’s sure his muscles will lock that way so he does the only thing he can think of to get rid of it: he tilts the slightest bit up, and kisses Kurt.  
  
He hears a sharp, surprised gasp but he can’t ponder on who made it long as Kurt leans closer and kisses back after barely a second.  
  
Arms wind themselves around Blaine’s waist as his bottom lip slots between Kurt’s and Blaine can’t feel the ground anymore because he’d been unknowingly waiting over seven months to do this.   
  
He had never thought about kissing until he had met Kurt and even then he tried not to dwell on the swoop of his stomach when his gaze caught Kurt’s lips curled around a small smile or a smirk.  
  
But now, now he wouldn’t take back his impromptu action for the world nor would he want to ever stop thinking about kissing again.   
  
He doesn’t hold back his small whimper as Kurt deepens the kiss or his moan when a hand curls around the back of his neck, tangling with the hair there.   
  
He focuses on the ragged sound of Kurt’s breathing mixing with his own, on the slight burn in his toes as he raises himself on them to get them closer, on the pressure of Kurt’s mouth against his and the feeling of warmth and impatience and ardor and trifling desperation because suddenly he can do this and he never wants to stop.   
  
Kurt’s panting against him like he refuses to leave enough space between them to suck in enough air to continue but neither of them wants to let go or pause, like a drug that leaks into every part of your body and keeps you fixed and high.  
  
The feeling of Kurt’s tongue licking at the seam of his lips is what pulls him down enough to let himself melt even further into Kurt’s embrace. The kiss halts for a suspended moment as Kurt kisses his cheek and intertwines their hands again.  
  
“So, why hadn’t we done this before?”  
  
Blaine laughs, the sound breathless and raw making Kurt smile a little wider and Blaine watches from so very close as his dimples appear.  
  
“Come to my place or kissed?”  
  
“Both. But mostly the kissing,” Kurt clarifies, giving Blaine another just to clarify.   
  
“This is love, isn’t it?” Blaine whispers, eyes closing again as he catches a glimpse of Kurt’s.  
  
“What do you think?”  
  
“Yes. Yes, god...”  
  
“I love you, too,” Kurt giggles, arms wrapping themselves around Blaine again, tighter like he never wants to let go again.  
  
In the end they do unwind, just long enough to set up the lunch Kurt prepared on the mountain of rugs Blaine set up.   
  
The next day Blaine does get to see Kurt’s apartment, he does get to hear the creak in the floorboards Kurt had once complained about and see the way the wind makes the curtains almost reach the ceiling.   
  
After that they don’t meet up in random places, they find them together.  
  
Blaine stops seeing his therapist once a week but twice a month instead because Blaine stops spending so much extra time at his shop and if he does he gets to do it with Kurt.  
  
Blaine had been content in his old life, but now he is truly happy because he still has music and he still has his books and his store, but now he has someone to share it all with.  
  
Serendipity, his therapist had called it.


End file.
